A fat, disgusting pig with perfect breasts walks into a bar
dearest gentle reader, did you miss me?
"You're a fat, disgusting pig!"
That’s not me trying to click-bait my intro; those were *actual* words hurled at me, during what I can best describe as a drive-by. Just minding my own business, strolling through Wynwood with friends in the sweltering heat of a typical summer night in 2022.
"Hey, you, yeah you! Did you hear me, bitch?" The voice came from a car that had literally slowed to trail me.
"Why the fuck are you wearing that dress? You're a fat, disgusting pig and you shouldn't be wearing that!" he yelled, then zoomed off into the night, his laughter echoing behind him like bad exhaust.
I stood there, stunned, in my favorite slip dress—the one that makes me feel like a goddess, effortless, lightweight satin draping perfectly on my curves without being too clingy, ideal for a Miami summer night. My friends, a few steps ahead, turned around at the commotion, their faces a mix of confusion and concern.
Determined not to let Mr. Drive-By ruin our night, I shook off the sting and rallied for some rooftop shenanigans. If you’re going to verbally assault me, at least make it fashion and chase with tequila, amiright?
Despite societal expectations, I’ve never had an issue with my curves, though others seem concerned with keeping score of my body and how it fits into their world.
It's laughable when people say, "Just brush it off, who cares what they think?" But let's be real—when your very existence is so triggering that one feels compelled to aggressively violate you with a verbal assault, it does some damage. On some level, what they're really saying is that you’re too much and not enough in the same breath.
This is what society often throws at us in various forms. Even those who “yas queen!” a curvaceous women one minute may, in the next breath, express horror over an inch of fat on their own body or a passing joke of a so-called "big back" meal while counting the macros of their each and every bite. The internalized fatphobia that permeates our culture puts a blinding spotlight on the notion that someone living in a larger body couldn’t have adoring, attractive romantic partners or empowered sexual experiences. Anyone who fucks us must only be in it for other aspects of who we are, and there’s no possibility that they also find us sexy and attractive in our bodies as we are?
Speaking of the spotlight, do we have any Bridgerton fans in the house?! Ah, Penelope’s glow-up—a story not about shedding pounds to star in her love story but a woman seeing herself and stepping into her power, sans the typical romcom quirky girl to bombshell transformation. We have Shonda Rhimes to thank for ditching the tired weight loss trope for something far more empowering.
But when Nicola Coughlan, who plays our dear Penelope aka Lady Whistledown, filmed her intimate scenes, the world labeled her “brave” for being her, in her natural, unaltered state. Nicola herself questioned why her body type, or as she so eloquently put it, women with perfect breasts (facts), which is seen on-screen in its beautiful honesty, should be deemed brave when her counterparts are celebrated for being gorgeous, sexy, a rising star, or just doing their job.
This sparked a thought: Why is it inconceivable that an attractive man would find a thick, curvaceous woman irresistible? Despite societal biases, the gorgeous men who have graced my bedroom—and, more intimately, held my heart—have worshipped each and every curve without reservation. Oh, the audacity!
Throughout my life, I've been serenaded with the "Too much" and "Not enough" chorus:
"Stay in your lane."
"You talk too much."
"You’re too loud."
"Get to the point."
"You’re too fat."
"You’re not the right fit."
"You’re not pretty enough."
"You need to tone it down."
“You’re so dramatic.”
“You’re not polished enough”
The list goes on…
A Maya Angelou quote jumped from from the pages of a book during a time of reflection, "You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anyone." Yes, Maya, but…I just want someone, anyone, to see me for me. And then, it clicked…
A former boss once enlightened me with her “feedback”—"Your light is so bright it’s outshining everyone around you."
hey, quick question…are you fucking kidding me?
What do I do with that? How is this my problem? I'm not trying to do anything. This is just me, merely existing. In that moment I made a decision. I had to learn to accept and celebrate that I cannot—and will not—dim my light for anyone's comfort.
We all deserve to be full. Full of life. Full of love. Full of pasta. Fully ourselves.
So, my friends, with all the love in my heart and the fat on my ass, I say: Wear that crop top, throw on the slip dress, be a badass at work, be seen, laugh loudly, be heard, take up allllll the space you need, love yourself so much that you are fucking dangerous, and above all else…give them hell.
Let’s keep in touch
💛 Follow me: @colourmedonna on Instagram & Twitter/X
👋 Say hey, chit chat, or leave me a hella funny joke in the comments below!
💌 Love me, mean it? Share 'Plot Twisted' with your most unhinged friends and loved ones. They’ll thank you for it... eventually.
Thanks for reading Plot Twisted! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
That booty pic in the ocean is fire. 🔥 Also I suspect the hoodlums sheepishly verbally assaulting unsuspecting and underserving humans in a cowardly drive-by fashion has met or will soon meet their karma. Be you. Unabashedly, be you.